


:3c

by fichuntie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Cat Ears, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys & Catgirls, Comfort, Fluff, Heavy Petting, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fichuntie/pseuds/fichuntie
Summary: studio pitch: what if keith had cat ears since he's half galra. maybe he's a bit shy about them at first. and shiro finds them cute until he finds them hot.each chapter works as a stand alone. together they chronicle my slow descent into cat boy thirst.





	1. Ears out for Galra

Keith’s always been a little strange, but with the knowledge that he’s partially Galra some of the habits seem to have a rationale beyond his own quirks. At first, he's terrified how the team suddenly re-examine him, like Hunk who literally thinks he could change physical colors with the reveal, and seem to find nothing impressive. Aloof as they see him, Keith thought they knew him better than to think he could be capable of the evil they see inherit to the Galra. Then, it's irritation as the questions turn personal which only makes Keith realize how little he knows about himself and his heritage. 

But after a few weeks working with actual Galra rebels, Keith begins to see the overlaps in his habits. The Galra resemblance to cats is more than passing. Their ears emote in the same ways: flat back for fear and aggression, unconscious twitches for attention, perked for happiness. He’s even caught Galra resistance fighters twined together to groom each other’s fur after a grueling mission. He remembers the colonies of desert cats from his year after leaving the Garrison and the reflection of their odd bristling fur after dust baths is found again in the Blade fighters sometimes. Seeing these habits, Keith remembers his own childhood habits that had been viciously teased out of him. More so, he remembers the comfort they brought. At the Garrison, that kind of expressive behavior would’ve been punished, even written up to mar a students record if it persisted. But the Blade had no issue with it and the efficacy of the Galra soldiers couldn’t be questioned. Keith feels a longing that he'd repressed for years. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let loose. Only a little bit. And in the privacy of the castle, away from their allies and regulation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cats brush against objects to mark them =(ΦωΦ)=

Keith first tries in his own room, the door locked and doubly encrypted. His shoulders hunch as he finishes entering the code. The allowances start pretty small. 

Keith rubs his wrist along the edge of the doorway to his room, brushing against the inside at eye level. At first, he surreptitiously checks the empty hallway for the paladins before marking the outside of his room; then after a few times, he relaxes enough to pull down his sleeve before brushing bare skin against the wall. Once the brush of his wrist against the frame is established habit, Keith feels deeply relaxed when he enters his room which begins to smell more clearly of himself. Rumbling contentment rises inside of him when he catches scent of his room from down the hall, a scent not even the scrubbed air of the castle can completely erase. 

Lance jostles him once or twice as he leaves his room, hooking an arm over Keith who does his best to shrug him off. Lance’s long arms make this impossible. 

“Why are you so relaxed, huh? What’re you hiding in your room?” Lance manages a glance backward, but Keith’s door already slid shut.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Keith twists Lance’s hand until he steps into the hold to alleviate the pain, “You need to spend more time training and less being nosey, Blue.”

Lance shakes his wrist out, keeping pace with Keith. “You need to spend more time not being a jerk.” 

Their walk to training is short and silent, but even Shiro notices Keith’s focused energy going so far to push him to engage in an extra round of sparing. Shiro claps Keith’s shoulders between rounds with the bots, smiling brightly. Like his room, focused fighting always helps Keith focus. Keith took a long time to accept that the team hasn’t noticed what caused the changes, only the positive effect on him. No human nose should be able to pick up the scent of Galra markings, much less the weaker smell a halfling produces as Kolivan had explained to him. 

With this assurance, Keith looks at his room with new eyes after training, looking for changes he can make. Keith lifts his bed off the floor, mirroring the layout that the Blade members seemed to prefer for their smaller rooms. The space under the bed is enough to store a few memorabilia from his missions and set up a little cabinet for his sharpening kit. 

“Keith, can I come in?” Shiro’s voice interrupts his reorganization. 

“Yeah, come in,” Keith calls out from under his new storage space. Keith withdraws from his crouch when he hears Shiro make a startled cough over the opening of the doors.

“You okay?” Keith, kneeling, turns to Shiro, who is red-faced just inside his room. 

“I’m fine! I didn’t realize you were cleaning,” Shiro manages, “Do you want to change?” His eyes scatter around the room, probably distracted by the new layout to avoid Keith entirely.

Keith looks down at himself. He’s wearing the paladin skin tight black suit from training but has taken off the armor. He certainly doesn’t smell bad, and that’s to the standard of heightened Galra scent. “No?”

“Ah, well,” Shiro seems to refocus on Keith and moves further into the room. “I just wanted to say how well you did in training.”

Keith abandons his organizing and moves to Shiro, the scent of him almost as familiar as his own. 

“You’re already past level three with the bots. And recently you seem more focused,” Shiro says, avoiding looking at Keith.

“Guess I just got in touch with my Galra side,” Keith admits. “I hope it doesn’t bother Allura,” Keith trails off, “Or you.”

“Keith,” Shiro reaches out, breaching the distance between them, “No, if it helps you, that’s what matters. I’m glad you’re able to learn more about your past. If it makes Voltron stronger, that’s a bonus.”

Shiro tilts Keith’s chin up to make eye contact, “Galra or not, you’re still Keith.”

Keith brushes Shiro’s worried hands away, but from then on he doesn’t worry about embracing his quirks. He does worry about how he can't get Shiro's scent out of his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	3. ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄₎

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lasers

“Thanks to Keith, not only was I inspired to create more modification options for your rooms paladins, but I thought to modify some of the training routines!” Coran begins. Lance shoots a glare at Keith, but everyone does their best to listen to the explanation of the new training. Honestly, Coran’s rambling answer involves more colorful crystals and gestures than necessary. Lance’s glare peeters into a bored stare at the new set up of the training area. 

“Yes, thank you,” Shiro manages to cut Coran off. “Paladins, let’s begin.”

Keith stops fiddling with his bayard and perks up. The training routine looks a lot like the mazes, using bright blue light to construct targets and obstacles. With a moustache twirl Coran heads up to the observation deck to begin the sequences he’s designed. 

 

Each paladin focuses on facing the targets, facing the glowing interfaces. Keith catches sight of the moving target, so he quickly twists to pierce the fast moving blur. Keith’s bayard catches on the target, and Keith leaps to follow the arc of it. He feels the torque of his body and pulls his legs close to keep his momentum 

When he slams to the floor with the impaled robot under him, he looks up proudly at his team. 

Who are staring in shock.

“Does Keith have a spine?” Hunk manages, wide eyed. 

“I’m pretty sure your feet and face were in opposite directions, man,” Lance huffs. 

“Of course, Keith has a spine. This is why we emphasize warm up stretches,” Shiro states, but Keith catches him pulling up the feed of the training. Keith peers over Shiro’s shoulder to watch his leap. “Although I don’t remember you mentioning doing high jump before the Garrison.” Shiro smiles encouragingly at Keith, but Keith shakes his head.

“I’ve never practiced a jump like that,” he admits. Some of his recent Blade training was similar, but Keith had always been less impressive than his team for catching high targets and mobility. He’d never participated in the ball games the other Galra had done for fun. 

“Natural talent, huh? Now everyone, let’s review the best approach,” Shiro shakes out of his focus on the reel by crossing his arms as he launches a break down. Shiro minimizes the display of Keith’s jump, but doesn't close it. If anyone other than Keith notices the looping video, they don’t mention it, probably too focused on the break down of each paladin’s approach to the exercise. 

Keight startles, tense, as a bright light flickers past Shiro’s shoulders. Instinctively, he focuses on the back and forth of the light, tracking the pattern. Shiro’s figure blurs so Keith’s dilated pupils can track the rapid movements of the pinpoint. Keith leans forward as the light shifts close enough. He slaps both hands on his prey, grin spreading even as he springs. 

“-eith!”  
He only catches the tail end of his name as Shiro shakes him by the shoulder, while his gray eyes bring back all of Keith’s attention. Keith looks back down at the blue dot on his hand. Keith lifts his hands from the counter. The counter, not prey. Because you can’t catch light. Which Keith knows. 

Keith bristles, “What? Who left the routine on? We were talking!”

Lance rolls on the floor, cackling. “He’s like a cat with a laser. I can’t!”

Pidge pushes up her glasses which does hide her concern for her distracted teammate but can’t hide her growing smile. “Maybe it’s all that time with the purple cat aliens.”

“Keith’s always focused on training,” Hunk says, trying to catch and drag Lance up from the floor. “Just because he’s a cat now doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have done this before.”

“Galra are more sensitive to lights on the higher frequencies,” Coran muses from the control panel display. 

“I’m not a cat! I’m not even fully Galra,” Keith hisses, “The lights would distract anyone.”

Keith turns to Shiro pleadingly. They’re close enough to catch the amused wrinkle around Shiro’s eyes before he pulls away to face the team. 

“Hunk is right,” Shiro begins, voice wavering dangerously between serious and what Keith recognizes as laughter. Keith narrows his eyes at the traitorous grin Shiro is trying to stifle. 

“Keith had the best reaction scores at the Garrison. Those quick reactions might save Team Voltron,” Shiro continues, voice lowering back into the calm tones he takes addressing the team. “We shouldn’t tease him for his skills.”

“See,” Hunk says, “I was right, Lance.”

Maybe Galra really do have better attunement to high frequency light because Keith must be the only team member who catches Shiro sending the training videos to his quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	4. ^. _ .^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ears out for galra

“Keith!” Shiro startles at his change in appearance. Keith is usually shy about the Galra side of his appearance, more than he is already particular about his looks. He’s shocked to see Keith sporting his Galra ears, two fuzzy purple ears above his human ones. His eyes are more clearly purple than slate gray, which only makes them more arresting. Keith’s embarrassed flush also looks more purple than pink as he hesitates in Shiro’s doorway. 

It feels nice to inhabit one’s own skin, not hiding anything or ashamed. Shiro can appreciate that as much as anyone, looking at his Galra tech arm that hovers over the keypad for his room.

“Keith,” Shiro repeats, bringing his eyes up to meet Keith’s. He doesn’t know if he’s successful in forcing himself not to focus on the ears even as they twitch in response to his voice. “Let’s meet the team together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	5. (=^･ｪ･^=))ﾉ彡

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loud noises can startle cats. cats can hear up to 64 kHz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back on my shit again due to the upcoming mini-season. work is hell but i'm pumped for trash team voltron to return.
> 
> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)

With each movement around the lounge, Keith’s attention visibly shifts even if he’s otherwise stalwart in a relaxed posture. Shiro remembers his own imitation of relaxation under scrutiny after his capture, making sure the other paladins didn’t know the head of Voltron was as tense as they were. Shiro also remembers the hours spent trying to massage tension out of his right shoulder hours after the other paladins had gone to sleep. Keith’s purple ears perk upward and then twitch towards any sound, whether the lilting conversation Allura is having or Hunk’s excited technical chatter, before finally returning back to their original position pressed against Keith’s head. The soft fur at the base of his neck rises at sudden movements and noises, goosebumps almost, and Shiro wants to brush against the nape of Keith’s neck, smooth him back to calm. He wonders how both their bodies have struggled to adjust to the changes Galra had made to them. Although Keith refuses to turn his head towards the sounds, the ears do turn dramatically, the fuzzy triangles betraying his distraction. 

Shiro has to sit on his hands so he doesn’t reach out to interrupt the latest repetition of this cycle. Each time Keith’s ears betray him, Keith’s shoulders hunch higher up and the white knuckled grip of his crossed arms seems to tighten. It’s not just that the tufts look temptingly soft. Shiro hasn’t seen Keith this tense outside of battle since leaving the Garrison; Keith would rather retreat to a desert shack than let others see him prey to vulnerability. Shiro won’t let Keith lose his grasp on the easy camaraderie they’ve found in the castle. Not as a leader nor as a friend.

The other Galra delegate, Kolivan, doesn’t seem to have the same issue of shifting attention. At least, his ears remain as placid as the rest of his body as he talks over the new mechanical upgrades with Hunk, whose wild gestures and honest laughter have distracted even the humans. The occasional rattle of the device they’re talking about has earned a sustained pivot from one of Keith’s ears, perked towards the sound. Kolivan seems as relaxed as ever from the placid yellow gaze to the relaxed position of his ears. Kolivan’s explanation of Mamora strategy is calm and even toned, barely rising over the shuffling of the paladins. Shiro wonders if Keith might learn to hold his ears still with the same discipline he’s learned from the Blade members. There’s something endearing about Keith having such an obvious tell, even if the current expression is irritation. He might be able to bring it up, subtly, to Kolivan. 

Hunk drops the silver mechanism to the floor, startling everyone. Even Kolivan seems to bristle, his dusty fur on end as the clang reverberates in the small lounge room. Keith has startled from his relaxed position by the door, ears trembling and eyes wide. Each clang winds him with more energy pushing his fur on end. He has his bayard out, but, disoriented by the sound, hasn’t activated it in his grip. He looks ready to run, more likely away from the noise than to his teammates. Shiro stands quickly, more alarmed by Keith’s reaction than the ringing metal. Shiro gestures him over, worried that Keith will bolt. The ploy is successful: Keith’s reroutes to Shiro with his surprised momentum rather than out of the company of his fellow paladins. 

“I’m still not used to how loud some noises are,” Keith admits, running his fingers through his bangs. His ears are still fanned towards Hunk’s clambering attempts to organize the device, even as Keith tentatively perches on the lounge seat beside Shiro. Bayard pushed back into his jacket pockets, Keith is still on edge. Shiro settles on the lounge seat, trying to project calm. That’s what Keith had provided him when pulling him from the garrison table: calm direction to diffuse his panic. It’s right to return the favor, Shiro thinks. And rare to be trusted with the chance. 

Kolivan inclines his head towards Shiro, managing to surreptitiously brush a hand over his own ears. Galra ears must be sensitive for even the Blade leader to startle so badly, so his concern for Keith is well telegraphed. Shiro nods back, understanding the trust placed to comfort Keith without worrying his teammates. Shiro launches into a discussion of the recent delegation the Lions had impressed, something he knows Keith will find boring. But boring half-listened to speech is good for this, for the appearance of normalcy without pressuring Keith to pay attention. 

Keith never minds sitting on the side of Shiro’s prosthetic, a comfort that even some of the other paladins don’t manage. Keith settles next to Shiro as minutes pass, some of the tension leeching away as the two settle into the deep seating of the lounge without further disturbance. Shiro’s discussion is slowly picking up as Keith seems more able to focus on Shiro’s words rather than the quiet cadence. As they sink into the white seating, they lean back towards each others warmth. Watching Hunk recalibrate the dropped machinery, they’re close enough that Shiro can feel the feathery brush of Keith’s ears when they pivot forwards. In his peripherals, Shiro glimpses the delicate material of the ears against the contrast between inky hair and violet fur. Shiro wonders what it would feel like, the join of the two soft textures.


	6. #HeavyPetting

Keith pants, ears flush back with his head. Shiro nuzzles into his neck, smoothing a hand down Keith’s flank to feel the deeper rumble of contentment that emanates from him. Realizing that his boyfriend vibrated with purrs was enough to make him press his laugh into Keith’s neck.

“C’mon, kitten,” Shiro murmurs against his neck. Each word puffs against Keith’s cheek as gentle as Shiro’s hands resting on him. He can feel his tail lash under Shiro, the press of Shiro’s body keeping his tail contained between his legs. But Shiro’s warm weight doesn’t stifle a whine when Shiro brushes against his neck, pressing Keith down with kisses at the nape. Keith nuzzles down against the top of Shiro’s head, Shiro’s hair, their scents mingling even as the smell of arousal spikes. 

Shiro’s progression down Keith’s body is slow and measured, as Shiro tends to be, and punctuated by kisses as prolonged as his exploration of Keith’s neck. The kisses are soft brushes of lip that open to the wet exploration on Keith’s warm skin. Shiro runs his hands across Keith’s stomach, seeming entranced by the dusting of fur. He rubs a circle at the inner join of Keith’s hip where the fur is downy soft.

“Stop,” Keith plants a hand over Shiro’s to stop the motion, “Like this. It’s better.” He brings Shiro’s hand in long smooth strokes, careful to only go one direction. Shiro catches on, starting over at his stomach, laying his large hands and brushing down the purple fur. Shiro ,watching Keith’s eyes slide shut with pleasure, he runs his hands back down. He lifts his hands, wide over the planes of Keith’s body, before pressing down again at the trail of purple fur. 

“Yeah, like that,” Keith says, hand drifting up Shiro’s arm and reciprocating the brush over his fuzz. Goosebumps rise under Keith’s hand, but Shiro doesn’t stop either exploration. Rather, he brings his other hand to wrap around Keith’s cock. 

“Like this?” Shiro smiles, touch still lose and light. He laughs at Keith’s glare before tightening his grip. Keith’s smooth skin and lavender fur contrasts with the wet grasp of his hand around Keith’s cock, and Shiro can’t believe how warm Keith is under his hands, how he vibrates with pleasure and happiness under Shiro’s attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at last, smut
> 
> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

Keith should probably tell Allura or Coran, but he doesn’t. He keeps to himself that he can hear well enough to sometimes catch the sounds drifting from the other paladin’s rooms from his own. He’d never heard anything before reckoning with his new Galra abilities. None of the other humans or pointy eared Alteans had mentioned the way sounds can ricochet around the palace. So it has to be his enhanced Galra hearing, now that he’s adjusted to the cat-like ears at the top his head. Keith can’t even be sure there’s anything to be done to keep him from hearing. The Mamora’s ship doesn’t leach sound, but Altean design is different. The castle is ancient with functionalities not even Coran knows how to access, much less fix to perfect order. Besides, Keith figures there’s enough to do to keep them battle ready. There’s no reason to worry them, as busy as everyone is. Especially if they can’t fix the way noise seeps into his room. 

 

Usually it’s nothing important that he can hear. During the day, all the sounds blend together to a familiar and reassuring hum of activity and camaraderie. It’s not a problem; Keith finds it reassuring like the cheerful yips of coyotes over crickets were back in Arizona. Walking toward the lounge, he can sometimes pick out the pitch of Pidge’s laughter, higher than the other paladins over the usual noises of conversation. He’s coded his door to stay open sometimes, to listen to his friends talk several hallways down, a mumbling reassurance. Other times, it’s overwhelming. Sometimes, Keith can’t pick out a single voice in conversation when everyone’s talking and he can also hear the crystalline noises of the teleporter all the way on the other end of the castle. Those make his ears twitch, almost itch, until Allura’s warp is complete. One night the first week of letting his ears out, Keith had woken to the booming noise of footsteps on metal. He’d launched out of bed with hands over his purple ears. The mice had been scampering through the vents. Now with Kolivan’s practice he has better control. At night, the quiet make voices stand out. He can hear Lance’s muttered curses at late hours as Lance keeps mashing buttons on his gaming rig. Sometimes he catches sounds from the kitchen, conversation and chopping. Usually Hunk is done early in the night, shuffling back to his room with loud yawns and the wafting scent of whatever he’s made that evening. 

Keith would have said something if it was anything important. Yes, it’s better for Keith to keep to himself how well he can hear noises from Shiro’s room. 

He didn’t try to listen in. His ears just track Shiro’s better than anyone else, perking and following his voice. It drives Keith to distraction in training. Hearing Shiro’s focused pants of breath and frustrated groans captures Keith’s attention, regardless of how hard he concentrates. He wouldn’t do this on purpose, of course. 

What he hears from Shiro’s room, so close to his own isn’t important. It’s nothing he hadn’t heard in the garrison quarters. He’s heard other cadets gasp late at night, rustling under sheets. They were all used to sharing rooms, better preparation for the tight living spaces of aeronautics. Get enough hormonal teens together and they were sure to find a way to relieve stress, alone or sneaking into each other’s rooms. Garrison halls and rooms had skipped every expense and comfort they could. Space wouldn’t afford privacy or space, so every cadet had overheard something in a room or caught a glimpse in a shower. Cadets heard panting and sliding under sheets and occasionally stumbled on worse in the showers. Keith didn’t need to tell anyone. This kind of overheard pleasure just came with close quarters, after all. 

He’s just doing what Kolivan told him. Keith has to get his Galra ears under control. It’s not his fault that Shiro’s voice is what rings out to him when he tries to concentrate on tracking the bustling noise of the castle. It’s only his enhanced hearing that means he can replay Shiro’s breathy call of an aborted name over and over again in surround sound. He’s not doing anything wrong when he focuses on Shiro’s deep voice, sighing hours after the rest of the ship has settled into sleep. 

Keith doesn’t need to tell anyone how his whole attention turns to Shiro’s room, tucked under his own sheets and waiting with his own baited breath so he can catch every moan that reaches him. Keith doesn’t find it important that he can never catch the stuttered name of Shiro’s imagined partner. He can hear enough of Shiro’s routines in his rooms and has learned the halting deviation from pattern when Shiro decides to touch himself at night. He knows the rhythms and crescendos of Shiro’s noises, how long Shiro likes to tease. Shiro would be patient, Keith thinks, with someone else and wind their pleasure tightly. Keith listens, intent, as Shiro’s frantic rustles go from languid to frantic. He can almost hear the slide of flesh on flesh, quickening. 

Keith doesn’t need to admit how he’s stroked himself, careful not to rustle his own blue sheets and miss a moment of Shiro’s groans. No one can see him in the dark of his own room as he hisses with a hand at the base of his cock so he can come with Shiro. He can hear Shiro as close as if he were to tuck his head over Keith’s shoulder, moaning directly into Keith’s ear. Keith keeps silent, listening to Shiro. Shiro’s barely audible over Keith’s pounding pulse, but Keith can concentrate to bring Shiro’s voice and gasps over his own. It’s nothing important the way Shiro catches on an exhale, probably overwhelmed. 

Keith can’t hear the way Shiro slides his hand, damp with pre-cum, over his cock. He can’t hear the movement of Shiro’s white hair over his sweaty face that turns towards the ceiling. Some things are too quiet in the ship while others are silent like the thoughts Shiro touches himself to. Keith can’t make out what’s groaned in the deep bass of Shiro’s voice even as it vibrates though him head to toe. Keith can’t hear if Shiro looks flushed like he does when he pins Keith on the practice mats with one hand large enough to capture both of Keith’s wrists. Keith can’t hear if the increasing cadence of breath matches the slide of Shiro’s hands. 

Keith isn’t going to tell anyone, certainly not Shiro, that he thinks he’s heard his name murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> closing this out since hopefully the new season will bring new thoughts/materials. if ppl like i might write a standalone pwp.
> 
> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)
> 
> update: so instead of writing pwp, i started [this multichapter bullshit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241641/chapters/35351556)

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


End file.
